


front row seats

by tisapear



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, One-Sided Attraction, One-sided Kyoutani Kentarou/Iwaizumi Hajime, One-sided Yahaba Shigeru/Oikawa Tooru, POV Outsider, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:01:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26894116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisapear/pseuds/tisapear
Summary: He wonders why they're even still here, wonders why they keep listening,watching, torturing themselves. It's obvious their intentions were for naught,just some extra practice with our favorite senpais.Stupid, so fucking stupid. Their dearest senpais are evidently busy with their own kind of practice.One room, four people; only two are aware of every occupant.(Or: Kyoutani and Yahaba get their hearts broken.)
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kyoutani Kentarou & Yahaba Shigeru
Comments: 12
Kudos: 123





	front row seats

In the goddamn locker room, because of fucking _course_.

It's where temptation has its strongest hold, after all; all milky-smooth skin, those strong thighs, that slim neck, so perfect when it moves just _so_. Delighted eyes and carefree laughter, always with that mischievous smile on lips playfully tilted. Careful consideration in the corners of his mouth as he strips you down to your bare essentials, with just a single look.

Of course— _of course_ , Shigeru _knows_ , alright. He's not a fool. You don't fall for someone untouchable, not without eventually reaching the ground.

He still wasn't prepared for it to hurt quite so _much._

The palm pressed against his mouth's warm, rough. Sweaty. If this was Watari, he'd playfully lick it, _ew, dude!_ , Watari's exaggerated reaction, gagging noises and suppressed laughter.

But it's not, and it wouldn't be followed by laughter, either.

Shigeru blinks against the tears, can still feel some roll down, drip over fingers not his own, nails digging into his cheekbone.

He wonders why they're even still here, wonders why they keep listening, _watching_ , torturing themselves. It's obvious their intentions were for naught, _just some extra practice with our favorite senpais_.

Stupid, so fucking stupid. Their dearest senpais are evidently busy with their own kind of practice.

Kyoutani might look more composed than him, his face calm, almost serene, like he's not watching the first person he's ever respected do things he longs for at night with someone that's not him. 

Or maybe Shigeru's just projecting.

No—no. The steadily increasing pressure on his mouth bespeaks the façade.

Shigeru blinks, slowly, almost dream-like. Wants to look away but finds himself unable to avert his eyes. You'd expect them to be loud. One so obnoxious (so beautiful it hurts), the other never shy to voice his displeasure (always so quiet and considerate when the need arises); a vocal pair, yet this is the image presented to them: soft moans and even quieter groans. Silent murmurs lost in the space in-between their moving bodies, barely there as it is, their skin slick with sweat, practice-earned and passion-brought.

 _"Hajime."_ Voice wispy, sound a personal prayer. Something forbidden, not for Shigeru's ears.

Kyoutani twitches, a quick jerk of his arm, and Shigeru unconsciously shuffles closer, their thighs now pressed together, his arm linked with another.

Spread out on the bench in the middle of the room like it's an altar and not a daily witness to teenage shenanigans, Oikawa looks ethereal. Head thrown back, hair glistening in the shitty fluorescent light, face flushed and legs firmly clasped around Iwaizumi's back, crossed at the ankles, he's an otherwordly being not meant for mortal eyes. He's still wearing his jersey, his jacket, but a flick of Shigeru's eyes reveals his shorts discarded on the floor.

One hand tenderly cupped around Iwaizumi's face, their eyes locked, so fully lost in each other as their unsteady breaths mingle, as their lips perfectly slot together, and Shigeru _aches,_ down to his chore, parts in himself he didn't even know _could_ hurt. His fingers twitch, want to touch, please, oh, please, just _once_ —

Instead he blindly grabs for Kyoutani's free hand, feels it shake in his own.

 _Shared grief_ , and he wants to laugh at his own thought. Can't decide whether he's being rightfully dejected or needlessly dramatic.

So this is what what a broken heart feels like. Pieces inside your ribcage, rattling against the edges of your cracked insides. He wonders if Kyoutani's able to hear it, pressed together as they are.

"Tooru, Tooru, _Tooru_." Intense, more intense yet, Oikawa's high-pitched keening, Iwaizumi's frantic mumbling, the bench scraping against the cheap floor, their careful movements becoming hectic, erratic, so intent on release, and how the _fuck_ did none of them ever notice, Shigeru thinks, suddenly furious and a little hysterical.

They should have known, _a hand on a shoulder, an arm, slung around a neck and resting on the small of a back,_ they should have realized, _inside jokes, been together forever, know each other inside out,_ but maybe they just didn't want to see, _late-night training, just the two of them, one on one, captain and the vice_ , they were so fucking _foolish._

Shigeru closes his eyes, bites the inside of his cheek, grips Kyoutani's hand tighter as Oikawa and Iwaizumi moan in unison, foreheads pressed together.

It's silent, for a moment, the only sound the one of the two slowly regaining their breathing. Then there's a laugh, airy and light, and Shigeru blinks his eyes open, immediately catches sight of Oikawa pressing a hand over his eyes. "You're always so impatient, Hajime."

Iwaizumi snorts, easily slaps Oikawa's hand away, reveals dancing eyes. "Like you didn't provoke it all day. _No worries, Yahaba-chan, you can go home already! We're not gonna stay too long, and I promise Iwa-chan will take **good care** of me once we're finished!_ Fucking _tease._ "

"I'll have you know that I had the purest intentions when I said that!"

"Yeah, sure. And I bet you didn't cry watching WALL-E for the twentieth time either."

"Rude," Oikawa says, yet his expression is warm as he sits up. He winces, nose scrunched up as a disgruntled look rattles his face. "We should really start using condoms," he mutters, and Iwaizumi laughs, throws Oikawa's shorts at him without looking.

"Like you'd ever be satisfied with that."

Oikawa shrugs, completely unashamed, doesn't bother denying the accusation as he wipes a streak of white from the back of his thigh, easily licks it off his fingers. Like it's common, an everyday occurence, like it's not gonna star in each and every one of Shigeru's fantasies for weeks to come.

Fuck in the locker room, hide the evidence, act like nothing untoward ever happened right where they bond as a team, and Shigeru has to wonder just how many times they've done this the past three years. Too many for his heart to bear, he bets.

They dress quietly, without much conversation. No awkward silence as they gather their things, not at all like they've done something indecent. It almost comes off as… domestic, Iwaizumi cleaning the evidence off of Oikawa's body, the way he holds the shorts out for Oikawa to step into. A quiet moment to bask in their shared afterglow. 

Shigeru swallows, a sob scratching at the back of his throat. He still doesn't take his eyes off Iwaizumi as he slings his bag over his shoulder, steps toward the door and opens it.

Oikawa halts him before he can step outside, grips the sleeve of Iwaizumi's jacket with two fingers. There's something almost shy to the whole action, his smile small as he looks up from underneath his lashes, suddenly looking so demure, and Shigeru's afraid that this is the first time he's ever seen something so genuine on his captain's face, that it might be the last time he ever will, his only chance, a damn _consolation prize_ , and it's not even directed at him.

"Love you," he murmurs, a secret for two.

Iwaizumi's smile is just as soft, so full of love as he raises his hand, combs back sweaty strands framing Oikawa's face, leaves his hand in unruly locks. "Love you, too, Tooru," he whispers, then adds, smile now a teasing smirk, "idiot."

Oikawa whines, _so mean_ , but Iwaizumi merely lets his palm glide down the other's shoulder, his arm, until he reaches his hand and intertwines their fingers. He pulls his partner out of the room, Oikawa still complaining, _Iwa-chan, you're such a brute,_ and, _you always ruin the moment,_ and, _not a single romantic bone in that body of yours._

The door falls shut with a nondescript click, just as Kyoutani removes his hand and lets it rest on Shigeru's collarbone, wrist barely touching his breastbone.

Shigeru doesnt know if the following whimper is his own or Kyoutani's.

He doesn't plan on telling Watari, but his friend knows him too well.

"Something happen?" he asks, and Shigeru's not sure what tips him off, whether it's the purposefully casual way he sips on his milk, or the way he glances at Shigeru from the corner of his eye, but suddenly he's sure that—

"You knew," Shigeru says, a hoarse whisper. Watari doesn't look guilty, not at all like he was caught red-handed, hiding something important. He knew, and never had any intention of telling someone, telling _Shigeru._

He shouldn't feel betrayed at Watari keeping a secret that wasn't his to tell, but he does.

Watari's expression is so full of pity, Shigeru can feel the last of his pride shrivel up in that pitiful thing they call his chest. "Forgot how often I tend to forget my things, huh? I walked in on them on our first day."

Almost two years, and Shigeru's been a fool from the very start.

 _Why didn't you tell me_ , he doesn't say, the words domesticated needles native to the caverns under his tongue, but Watari seems to hear them anyway. He shrugs, smile crooked.

"Would it have changed anything?"

No. No, it wouldn't, would have still hurt like acid carelessly poured into a fresh heart-wound.

But at least he wouldn't have blindly taken a seat in the front row for the grand opening of the fool's play.

**Author's Note:**

> It's the senpai worship for me


End file.
